


Grey Skies

by Lotus_Dumplings



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Don't @ Me, M/M, Robot Feels, Robot/Human Relationships, Robots, soft scifi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 18:09:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20344456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lotus_Dumplings/pseuds/Lotus_Dumplings
Summary: It had taken a while, but he had come to terms with the fact that the skies were grey. Somewhere inside, he wanted to object. The sky was… well, he wasn't sure, but it wasn't supposed to be grey!------Prumano week 2019, Day Two.





	Grey Skies

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun with this!

It had taken a while, but he had come to terms with the fact that the skies were grey. Somewhere inside, he wanted to object. The sky was… well, he wasn't sure, but it wasn't supposed to be grey! 

But he knew how stupid that sounded to most. What did he know? He was a scrap of junk as far as everyone was concerned. He didn't even know his own name, why should he know what color the sky is? 

"I've heard stories of the sky being different colors," Lovino mused. "Maybe that is where you get the misunderstanding." 

Gilbert -- a name the Vargas brothers had started calling him out of convenience -- frowned. "Maybe." 

Still, he couldn't shake off the feeling. 

Feliciano laughed when he asked about it. "Sky's always been grey, least for as long as I know!" The child hummed as he oiled down his prosthetic. "But Vino's got a really old poetry book and it keeps saying stuff about a yellow sky! I think…" 

"A yellow sky?" Gilbert pursed his lips. No, that didn't sound quite right. 

"I don't know, post developmental art is weird." He smiled. "But who knows! You're a _reeaaally_ old model. We had to rebuild more than half of you. Maybe it's a faint memory!"

A memory?

Gilbert didn't have a lot of those. The earliest one, and clearest one, was of Lovino. His hair was disheveled, his face was practically covered in soot and oil, and his eyes sparkled with pride and accomplishment. 

For some reason, the memory always made him feel weird. Like his entire circuit board was on fire. Or like he was being overridden by something he couldn't describe. 

It wasn't quite the same. The sky being another color just felt natural. Like it felt natural to make weird signs when he spoke or how it felt natural to use his left hand. 

He stopped questioning it, eventually. Just like he stopped questioning the lack of plants outside. There were more than enough, inside, anyway. Flowers and herbs and vegetables. They added a bit of liveliness to the constant grey.

Once, when Lovino came home from the scrap yard, he explained that there were few horticulturists left. Their grandfather had been one, and he passed everything he knew down to them. The flowers made him feel a little sad after that, but they were still quite lovely to look at. 

Particularly the blue ones. Cornflowers, Lovino called them. Gilbert wasn't allowed to touch them -- he still couldn't control his joint movement or his strength too well -- but he was okay with that. 

Lovino laughed. "Why that one in particular?" He crooked a brow curiously, and Gilbert struggled to regain control of his thoughts. It was a valid question. Lovino himself preferred the lilies while Feliciano favored daisies. 

He looked away and shrugged. What could he even say? They seemed powerful? They made him emotional? They made something inside him twitch? "I don't know," he said instead.

That seemed to be his answer for quite a lot of things. Who he was. Why he was here. What was he missing. All were questions he could never seem to find the understand. 

Lovino hummed to himself as they watered the plants, unaware of Gilbert's derailing train of thought. If only he could only latch onto that instead. Thinking of Lovino was much _warmer_ than thinking of himself. Lovino, whose voice was made for something bigger, whose smile was powerful enough to shut down his motor functions, whose eyes glittered with care and confidence, who had found something he wanted--had found a reason.

Gilbert tapped the wall, satisfied by the in time clicks. Finally, he muttered, "What am I?" 

Lovino looked to him in shock. "Well," he said, slowly, "some would argue you are completely robotic, but you seem to have a conscious."

Gilbert paused. "But why?"

"I'm sorry I… I don't know. I barely know anything about consciousness in programs. Everything seems to be running fine, though." 

"Even though I can't remember anything?" 

Lovino nodded, taking his hand. Gilbert looked through the digital library later to find someone had started to look into cybernetic nerve networking. 

When he asked where he came from, Lovino answered, "I found your leg structure in the Sector Seven scrap yard. I had to shape metal to fix your knee and give you a protection layer. Your right arm came from an antique shop, not particularly in good shape. I had to make your hands and fingers from scratch, so they aren't the best with motor functions. But your mainframe was sold to me, so we can't be sure." 

Gilbert frowned. "Why put me together if you needed to work so hard?" 

"I'm not sure. But I'm glad I did. You're here now, right? And here is where you need to be." 

Gilbert watched him fiddle with some cloth. "Yeah." 

Lovino fell asleep at his desk that night, working with something far too complex. Gilbert decided to take him to his bed before sitting by the cornflowers. 

\---

Whenever life came back after a momentary pause, it felt disorienting. It took him a bit to adjust to time. This time, Lovino had that look of elated exhaustion, with his brows creased and lips pressed. 

"Did it go well?" Gilbert asked, not really sure what "it" was just yet. 

"I don't know, did it?" He crooked his head in confusion until Lovino took his hand. An unfamiliar jolt shot through him, making him yelp. Lovino grinned. "I'll take that as a yes." 

Gilbert looked at their entwined hands in mild shock. "What is that?"

"It's lace woven with sensors. It replicates nerve ends. Not all too complex, really." He observed the hand, running his own fingers over it. "The hard part was rewiring your mainframe. It's hard to do as it is, but with such old, fragile technology…"

Gilbert shivered under the touch. "... Why?"

Lovino looked away quickly. "I wanted to work on your wiring and see if I can help with your recollection. I thought it'd be a nice touch if I added a nerving system. It's nothing too big, but I could--" 

He yelped, getting caught off guard by strong, cold arms pulling him close. "Thank you." 

Gilbert couldn't feel too much, not with this repurposed technology, but he could still vaguely have a distinction. He quickly found he liked the feeling of old books, the ones made of paper. It was oddly satisfying. 

Feliciano's new hand and leg -- he'd grown out of the old ones, it seemed -- had been reworked as well. He laughed when things brushed against them and spent a lot of time touching the walls.

"Gilbert, Gilbert! I can feel!" He squeaked with excitement, moving his fingers. "I can feel!" 

Feliciano took his hand a couple times. It was odd how cold they were, and Gilbert couldn't help but wonder if that's what is own hands felt like. His other hand was soft and small, and Gilbert was almost worried he'd hurt him. His hands were very smooth, though. Unlike Lovino's, which had been calloused and rough.

A lot of things about Loving were like that, though. Like his voice, or the scruffs of hair across his chin, or even his personality. But he was sweet and kind, evident at least by his work in the lower Sects. Evident at least by his dedication and care to Feliciano. Evident at least by the fact he cared about _him_, despite never having any obligation to do so.

Lovino eventually let him touch the flowers, once he was sure he wouldn't crush them. The lily petals were soft and frail, but the cornflowers were different. They brushed against his hand in a weird way. 

He wasn't sure why, but they reminded him of the sky. The _grey_ sky, he reminded himself. Lovino laughed when he said so aloud. 

"Imagine that. A blue sky." He snorted, eyes crinkling as he smiled. Gilbert felt the odd feeling inside again.

He thought back on what Feliciano said about a yellow sky. Perhaps he wouldn't mind it all that much, if it were the shade of Lovino's eyes.


End file.
